


Torque: Epilogue

by sunalso



Series: Luck of the Draw 2020 [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vikings, Epilogue, F/M, Family, HEA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23007985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: A peek at Fitz and Jemma's happily ever after a few years later in the Torque-verse.Beta'd by Gort
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Series: Luck of the Draw 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653562
Comments: 16
Kudos: 66





	Torque: Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [XOLove47](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XOLove47/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Torque](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19409122) by [sunalso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso). 



Jemma leaned against the carved beam of the longhouse, lifting her hair so that the evening summer breeze off the fjord skimmed the nape of her neck. The babe in her belly squirmed and pushed at her ribs, stretching out as if it needed to cool off as well. With another three months to go, the leaves on the trees would be turning when this child entered the world.

Fitz sat on the ground under the shade of a tree, his mum beside him and Aileen kneeling on the ground, several piles of stones between her and Fitz. Her blue kirtle would end up covered in mud, but Jemma had long ago given up on trying to keep her three-year-old daughter neat and tidy. She was far too much her father’s child for that. Aileen counted out the pebbles, first in Norse and then Gaelic, her little nose wrinkling up in concentration as Fitz rearranged the stones into mathematical problems. Aileen adored numbers and counted everything she could, from steps between her sleeping berth and the table, to stars in the night sky.

Jemma ran her hand over her growing belly, content with how she ripened along with the grain in the field.

Evening deepened into a long summer twilight. Jemma sat on a bench with Daisy and Piper, who had just returned from a trading run which had left them bursting with stories of what they’d seen and heard.

Fitz sang a lullaby to Aileen, and his mum carried the sleepy child inside.

“Wife,” he said, coming to sit beside her, but not too close because he well knew how over warm she so often felt while growing a new life.

“Husband.” She curled her fingers about his, and he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. She loved their life together, the farmstead thriving as they each worked in their own way towards making it safe, productive, and comfortable. She loved him. His smiles, sea-colored eyes, and reluctance to be too far from a pair of comfortable socks. He’d unlaced the neck of his blue shirt, and she could see the hollow of his throat and the gleam of the torque around his neck.

A different kind of heat lanced through her.

Jemma tightened her grip on Fitz’s hand and stood, bring him along with her. The air had cooled enough that she’d be happy to curl up with Fitz in their cupboard. “I find myself fatigued,” she said to Piper and Daisy.

“Better take her to bed, Fitz,” Daisy said while Piper grinned. “Don’t want the lady to be too…fatigued.”

“Goodnight to you both,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting. Obviously, he recognized her ploy for what it was too. Jemma led him into the longhouse. They were barely through the door when Fitz pressed her against the wooden wall, his lips on hers and his hands cradling her hips.

The pregnancy kept them from being pressed tightly together, but Fitz, with his brilliant mind, knew exactly how to angle his hips and press his thigh against her to make it seem like there was nothing getting in the way at all.

His kiss was hungry, like he’d been starving--despite the fact that she knew he’d eaten most of a stewed chicken during the evening meal—and Jemma considered hiking up her skirt right where they stood. After all, they were the lord and lady, and people could walk around to another doorway. She tugged at his shirt, wanting it over his head.

Fitz broke the kiss, stepping back and hastily directing her to their sleeping cupboard. She pulled off her kirtle and Fitz shrugged off his shirt before they both crawled into the cozy space they shared. Jemma wrapped her fingers around his torque, pulling him to her.

His palm cradled her belly, warm and comforting.

Fitz pulled back, and she tried to follow his mouth with hers, but he cupped her cheek. Jemma opened her mouth to ask why he’d stopped, but then she heard it, a tiny knock on their cupboard door.

Only one fist that small would be asking for entry. Fitz pulled a blanket over his middle and arranged her dress before opening the door and picking up Aileen. Her little face was blotchy and tears glistened on her cheeks.

“Mum,” she whimpered, holding out her arms. Fitz set her down and she cuddled against Jemma. “I had a bad dream.”

Fitz lay down, sharing a look with Jemma that said anything between them could wait for another time. He put a hand on Aileen’s back. “Do you want to tell us what could make you cry?”

Aileen sniffed loudly. “A bear wanted to eat me, but it had already eaten everyone else and I was all alone.”

“Aye, well, no need to fret,” Fitz said. “A real bear wouldn’t dare eat your mum and me. King Coulson would be quite mad and would bring war to the bear king.”

Jemma rolled her eyes at Fitz. He always had so many stories to tell, including some quite fanciful ones he’d been reading in a book Daisy had brought back in a raid. Aileen liked those stories, about deserts full of sand with no water anywhere. Jemma couldn’t even imagine it. Oceans of sand.

Aileen, smelling sweetly of ripe berries, stretched out. Jemma stroked her soft brown curls.

“Mummy,” she asked in a drowsy voice. “What’s the sky made of?”

“I’ll tell you a story tomorrow,” Fitz said. “Now it’s time to sleep.”

Aileen yawned, settling down. She had socks on her feet that matched the ones Fitz wore. Jemma couldn’t be happier about the man she’d brought home and the family they built. This time next summer, Aileen’s brother or sister would be nearly grown out of the cradle. It seemed so far away. It felt like just yesterday Jemma had raided a settlement and first seen Fitz’s face. And a thousand years since she’d worried he’d want nothing more than to take over her farm.

She knew better now. Fitz made the best partner and the best father.

The years ahead would be full of joy and tragedy, as all lives were. Jemma knew every day they spent together was a gift. She treasured all of them.

Jemma cupped her husband’s cheek. “The best story is our story,” she said over the sleeping Aileen.

“I love you.” Fitz covered Jemma’s fingers with his, directing them down to the torque.

“I love you too.” She ran a finger over the gold. To her, Fitz and their family were far more precious.


End file.
